New York City was most definitely larger than Boston, Treyan noticed as he and Bria made their way to the public library branch within Manhattan. He'd be the first to admit, however, that it was much better planned out, and the subway system was easier to manage than the one he'd become accustomed to in Boston. Bria clearly hadn't been in large cities often, for her eyes were wide the moment they emerged from the subway station whose walls were plastered with old concert posters for a band called Infernal Echo playing at the Knitting Factory. She was so taken aback by the sights; she was going to develop a crick in her neck if she didn't stop arching it up to stare at the massive skyscrapers around her.

The plan was to set up a base of sorts at the library, which would be their source of operations while within the city. It was quiet, and so long as they were as well, no one would bother them, which would allow them to do their research in peace and come and go as necessary without suspicion. It wasn't as though they were purposely trying to do anything illegal—it was his mother's apartment after all. He had a right to it, didn't he? He hoped so, because that was where they were going to be spending the night, if he could find it in time.

"Do you even know where to start?" Bria whispered to him in Lelriera. He figured posing as foreigners would make people more likely to leave them alone, so they had both agreed that they would not use the common tongue of the Otherrealm while on their expedition.

"I do. I'm going to look through the missing persons archives for the last one hundred years. There should be pictures, and I will remember my mother's face until the day I perish."

"How do you know someone reported her missing?"

"She lived in the city, so she must have had a job to support herself. A family, friends. Someone would have missed her when she left."

"Did anyone miss your beloved Empress when you took her?" Bria smirked.

Treyan shot her a stare of daggers. "You are not allowed to mention the Empress again; do you understand me?"

Hushed whispers of shhh emerged around them. Treyan hadn't realized he was raising his voice until then and gave an apologetic wave before turning back to Bria. So much for remaining inconspicuous.

"Now listen to me." He pointed to the book on Key construction. "Your job is to remain here and research this book in connection to any other odd occurrences that happened within the last hundred years that could direct us to any remaining Keys. Are we in agreement?"

"Yes, my Prince," Bria responded, though her sly smile was still prevalent.

"Good." Treyan didn't give her another thought as he headed towards the microfilm department of the library's reference section.

He never expected his search to be an easy one, but he also hadn't considered the massive volume of periodicals he would have to dig through to find what he was looking for. Never mind the number of missing women that surfaced within New York City over the last one hundred years. He wished he had a smaller time span to work off, but that was the shortest length of time he could narrow it down to. With so many differences between this realm and the Empire, he didn't want to take any chances, even if it meant additional torture for him in the short run. It wasn't until he started seeing articles about a mysterious apartment fire and the story of a missing woman that he finally felt he was making some progress.

In 1976, a woman went missing after a fire broke out within her apartment. According to the articles, the fire that burned appeared blue in color, and this was reported by ten different accounts. No accelerant or additional source could be determined as the cause of the conflagration, and the woman's body was never found.

"Nenl," Treyan cursed to himself as he read. If the apartment burned as the articles said, it meant the Key that took her to the Empire self-destructed once they passed through. Empress Keys had a tendency of doing that, he remembered learning, especially since there shouldn't be a reason for the Empress to come back once brought to the Empire.

He continued reading.

Later that same week, searches continued for the missing woman, aged twenty-five, whose name was Tanya Richardson. The next page had a picture of the woman in question, and though younger than Treyan remembered, it was most definitely his mother. Her hair was the same golden hue, her lips had the same full smile, and those eyes—the same eyes she had given him—were the striking blue he remembered.

He found her.

It didn't seem as though anyone else did. A year passed before they finally called off the search. Her family had given her up for dead, and a makeshift memorial was erected outside of the apartment building where she once resided. The apartment itself was gutted and rebuilt, but for some reason they were never able to lease her unit to another tenant. The history behind the tragedy that happened there seemed like enough to create an urban legend-like story surrounding it, so the landlord considered the unit a lost cause and never listed it again.

Treyan knew better.

True, she was dead, but not because of the fire within her apartment. She had been taken, successfully, by his father, coronated as Queen Empress of the Empire, given birth to him and his brother, and then all but raised them on her own. Of their father there was little word—Treyan was too young to totally comprehend the severity of the situation, until one day the Councillor informed them that he was never to return to the palace again, and that Treyan, as the soon-to-be Crown Prince, would become the head of the royal family. Their mother's health faded quickly after that. It all happened so fast that he never truly questioned any of it, though a small resentment remained towards his father for leaving them. Heartache or not, Treyan would never consider leaving Sarayna behind should something devastating ever befall Alex.

He shook his head, trying to get his past, and his future, out of his mind. He needed to concentrate on the present task or he wouldn't be able to get very far if he started worrying about what-ifs and how-comes.

Narrowing down the location of the apartment based on the rough maps drawn by the various newspaper articles, he was able to compare the drawings to the tax assessor maps on record at city hall, and then collaborated that information with the deeds still on record with the city registry. Soon he had an address and was packing up to head out to the next phase of his journey.

"I'm coming with you," Bria demanded when he told her he was leaving to find the apartment.

"No, you are not. You are going to stay here and continue working on the Key research. Have you found anything?"

Sighing, she shook her head. "Nothing yet. The oddest thing to happen has been the blue fire that you mentioned, but nothing beyond that in regard to anything about any mysterious happenings or otherworldly visitors."

"Keep looking. The apartment is a few blocks away. I should be able to walk there, take a look around, and return for you before the library closes."

"What makes you think I'll stay here and wait?"

"You need my help as much as I need yours, and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay right where you are." He patted her on the shoulder in an almost condescending manner and it took everything in his power to keep from sprinting through the library doors.

From the outside, the apartment building looked like any other building on the block, and like most buildings in the area, it had a locking mechanism on the front door to deter intruders and unwelcome visitors

Treyan could have easily blasted the door with his own source of power, but he was still hoping to attract as little attention as possible and would wait it out until a unit-owner came by. It took almost half-an-hour before someone showed up, and he was beginning to contemplate the minimal damage he could do with a power blast. Fortunately for the infrastructure of the building, an unknown individual walked up the stairs and entered in their apartment code, the door unlocked with a loud 'BZZZZ'. He was so lost in his own contemplation that he almost missed his opportunity but was able to reach out his hand and grasp the door with his magic to keep it from shutting all the way. Making sure there were no witnesses to his approach, he vaulted up the stairs two at a time, squeezed in between the door, and shut it quietly behind him once inside.

The hallway before him was silent, with apartment doors lining one side, and a staircase along the other. He read that the apartment was on the third floor, so up he went, as casually as he could, keeping an eye and ear out for anyone who may suspect him as an intruder.

The apartment was at the very end of the third floor's hallway—a corner unit in the back with a beautiful view of the complex's gardens, he had read in an old advertisement. That was his mother through and through. He knew the gardens at the palace were her doing, and her rooms were right above so that her balcony could look out over the lush landscaping. The door to the unit looked as if it hadn't been opened in decades, its more recent coats of paint all but sealing the seams shut. Discreetly, Treyan reached out to try the knob, hoping for some slim chance that it would have been carelessly left unlocked. Instead he was greeted with a powerful jolt so strong that it traveled up his arm, into his chest, and shook him back to the opposite wall.

The door itself was protected by a force-field, which could be possible if the magic from the Key remained within. If that were the case, how would the landlord have been able to determine the unit a lost cause? Unless it was this unknown power that kept him out to begin with, rendering him helpless in terms of reselling it. Treyan once again knew better. He knew this magic, and he knew how to get around it. He gathered a ball of his own blue power within the palm of his hand, and after glancing around one more time, concentrated his will against the door of the apartment.

The magic protecting the door was strong, but it was old, most likely from being cast for so long. And unlike wine, magic did not grow better with age, but instead it began to disintegrate, making it easier to penetrate, and eventually shatter. Unfortunately, the magic on the door wasn't so easily shattered, and Treyan had to exert more energy than he expected, but eventually the shield crumbled in a shower of golden light. Cautiously, he reached for the handle again, and when he didn't receive any magical resistance, took a breath and twisted the knob. The door opened without much of a struggle beyond breaking the painted seal. The conditions before him, however, surprised him more than the ease of his entry.

The apartment was immaculate, pristine, and looked as though there were never signs of fire damage. Not only that, Treyan noticed as he securely shut the door behind him, but it looked as though someone had been living there, recently, and quite peacefully. The appliances were updated. The coffee table in the welcoming living room was home to various housekeeping and decor magazines from within the last month or so. Treyan looked to see if there were mailing labels on them to give him an idea as to who was living there, but it appeared these had been purchased at a store rather than through a subscription.

The kitchen was fully stocked, and all the produce in a bowl on the counter looked fresh. Treyan took a quick look into the bedroom to see a bed that had clearly been slept in, and a laundry basket filled with dirty clothes—female by the looks of it. He noticed that there were no photographs, pictures, or artwork of any kind on any of the surfaces or walls. Whoever it may have been that lived here was either very boring, or very private.

A thought occurred to him as he vetted the apartment. What if she had been less than honest with them, and this had been Bria's safe house since she arrived? She did seem extremely willing to assist Treyan on this mission, and suddenly his blood began to boil with the consideration that he was on a fool's errand while he left Alex and Sarayna behind in Boston, without his protection. He wouldn't let assumptions get the better of him until he had solid proof, so he began to deepen his search to see if it confirmed his suspicions.

Behind the couch stood a small writing desk, with various papers and books strewn upon it. Treyan began rifling through the sheets, knowing that something there would give him at least a clue as to who currently squatted in his mother's apartment. However, the explosion above his head ceased his efforts and had him leaping for cover behind the couch before he could discover the source.

His attacker had been quiet. Whoever it was, they must have noticed the force field missing when they attempted to enter the apartment. Treyan was cursing himself for not casting it behind him, but he hadn't expected to find anyone was living there, let alone anyone that was most likely from his realm. Catching his breath, he tried to listen to place their position, but they—she, as his suspicions were soon confirmed—made it easy for him.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" Her voice was strong, unwavering, but had no hint of the accent Treyan was expecting from someone Empireborn, which made placing her all the more difficult. The only way he'd be able to figure it out would be by talking to her, and he hoped that he wouldn't have his head blown off in the process.

"I mean you no harm. I've only a few questions and I'll be on my way," he responded in English to ensure she understood him.

There was a pause before she responded, as though she wasn't expecting him to answer her. "Who are you??" she repeated, and this time Treyan could sense hesitation in her voice.

"If you let me stand up without causing me bodily harm, I'll be more than happy to explain."

"Alright. Slowly."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he gradually brought his feet underneath him to a crouching position and hoisted himself up, making sure to keep his arms raised in the universal signal of being unarmed. He hadn't realized his eyes were closed in concentration until he opened them upon standing.

He never thought he could have opened them wider.

He knew that hair, those lips, those eyes. She stood battle-ready, wielding the power of the Empire, yet she was not Empire-born. But it was impossible—she was dead and had been for many years.

The look on his face must have sparked something in her as well, for suddenly a look of recognition came to her eyes. He needed to say something—anything—but his voice had been lost.

"Axell?" she finally asked in a harsh whisper.

If Treyan's eyes grew any wider, they would have fallen from his head. He wasn't certain if the tears forming were due to his emotions or from lack of blinking.

No, he wasn't Axell, but he knew who Axell was.

Axell was his father.

"Mother," he said, not as a question, but as confirmation.

Now it was her turn for her eyes to widen, as he could see her mentally connecting the dots.

"Treyan?"

He didn't remember leaping over the couch to her, but he would always remember the embrace he gave, and this time he wouldn't let her go.